


One of a Kind

by LunaMoth116



Series: Down to Earth [6]
Category: Mystery Science Theater 3000
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Animals, Cambot Needs More Love, Family, Gen, Inspired by Real Events, Light Angst, Melancholy, Museums, National Geographic Photo Ark, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 03:56:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15941291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaMoth116/pseuds/LunaMoth116
Summary: Joel shook his head. “I just…I can’t believe it. It was here one day, and then it was gone…and until right now, I never even knew it lived.”Cambot and Joel visit the Photo Ark.Title (loosely) from Genesis 6:19.





	One of a Kind

**Author's Note:**

> _My quest for more Cambot-centric fic continues, and if I can’t find it, I’ll just have to write it._ C’est la vie. _;) (Of course, if you know of any — including your own — please feel free to share!)_  
>  _As a lifelong animal lover, I had to see the National Geographic Photo Ark when an exhibition came to a museum near me. I had watched a documentary about it previously, but seeing some of the photos in person moved me so much I was inspired to write. So, here we are. :) You can learn more about the Photo Ark[here](https://www.nationalgeographic.org/projects/photo-ark/) and [here](https://www.joelsartore.com). As for this ’verse, all you need to know is that post-series, Joel, Mike and the ’bots are all living together in Osseo._  
>  _The Bell Museum is a real museum in St. Paul, btw; the Photo Ark has never been there, to my knowledge, but it seemed to me a likely place for the Ark to stop off (though it certainly could have been or will be elsewhere in MN — which I hope is the case!). Thank you for reading!_
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** _If I owned any of this stuff, I’d be far too busy to write — so, I am actually okay with not owning any of it._

_“When you look them in the eye, you see clearly that we’re not so very different.”_

_~ Joel Sartore_

_“And of every living thing of all flesh, you shall bring two of every kind into the ark, to keep them alive with you…”_

_~ Genesis 6:19, New American Standard Bible (1977)_

 

“It’s the eyes, isn’t it?” Joel studied the image thoughtfully.

Cambot looked from the large displayed photo of a colorful king vulture to his creator, tilting to indicate he didn’t understand.

“The eyes,” Joel repeated softly. “The way he focuses on their eyes, gets the animals to look at the camera, to look right at you…their eyes just pull you right in.”

Cambot nodded in agreement. A simple stylistic choice, perhaps — much like the black or white backdrops each animal was photographed against — but a brilliant one. If only he could tell Joel Sartore so.

He and Joel (Robinson, that is) had come to the Bell Museum of Natural History just for this exhibition. Cambot had learned about the Photo Ark some time ago, but had only recently found out about the traveling exhibition. Joel had gamely agreed to accompany him. If asked, Cambot would have had to admit that Joel’s reaction to the exhibition was almost better than the exhibition itself.

The museum was quiet today, and for now Joel and Cambot found themselves wandering alone through the exhibit. Cambot studied each photo carefully, admiring the technique just as much as the subjects. He had never seen or even heard of most of the animals featured, might never even get the chance — sometimes, sadly, for good. But thanks to Joel Sartore’s work, now he knew what these animals looked like, that they were here, and what was happening — or had happened — to them.

He couldn’t help but reflect on his own life’s work, recording and transmitting (almost) everything that had happened on the SOL. Without him, all the adventures they had had, all the little moments they had bonded with or annoyed each other would have been lost to time, becoming little more than fading memories. Certainly, his work might not be as important as Joel Sartore’s, but it meant something to him and the rest of the Robinson-Nelsons.

It was their story. And thanks to him, it was captured for all time.

Hovering through the exhibit, Cambot saw more stories, some recounted in the descriptions, others only hinted at in the depths of the animal’s eyes. Sometimes, all that needed to be said was the listing of each animal’s conservation status, lettered neatly in small print beside its photo.

LEAST CONCERN.

VULNERABLE.

ENDANGERED.

CRITICALLY ENDANGERED.

“Cambot, look.” Joel motioned him over to a photo he had been staring at for the past few minutes. It wasn’t a creature Cambot recognized. When Cambot joined him, Joel pointed to the description.

EXTINCT.

The word was plain and blunt. But as Cambot read further, he realized that wasn’t what had Joel so transfixed.

The last of this animal’s kind had died in captivity during Joel’s last year in space.

He turned at the unexpected sound of Joel swallowing hard.

“You ever heard of this one, Cambot?” Joel asked quietly.

Cambot shook slowly from side to side.

“Me neither.” Joel shook his head. “I just…I can’t believe it. It was here one day, and then it was gone…and until right now, I never even knew it lived.”

Cambot nodded in understanding.

“If that had happened to any of us…” Joel trailed off, glancing away for a few moments. “All that would have been left were the tapes.”

Cambot nodded again. Joel looked straight at him then, and Cambot wondered if he could see his reflection in Cambot’s lens.

They stood there in silence for a few minutes, glancing back at the photo, then each other.

The animal’s eyes really were captivating.

“Maybe it’s too late for this animal,” Joel said eventually, “but it’s not too late for others. Like these.” He gestured at some of the other photos hanging on the walls. “What the sign said at the beginning, about everyone making a difference — they’re right, you know. We can help, too.”

Cambot looked at him, tilting slightly.

“One of the signs said something about donating to the project. You and I both have a little extra money.”

Cambot nodded as Joel went on, “And I don’t think that’s all we can do. We recycle and stuff, but I bet if we all try, we can do even better at home. Gypsy’s been trying to make ConGypsCo greener — giving back, she said. Maybe she has some ideas.”

Cambot beeped in agreement as the two of them began walking again.

“You know,” Joel said thoughtfully, “maybe we don’t see them every day where we live, but there’s something kind of sad when I think about a world without orangutans, or axolotls, or spotted jellyfish, or the El Segundo flower-loving fly.”

Cambot beeped a few times, inquisitively, as Joel reached up to pat him. “Why do I say that? Because you, Mike, Tom, Crow and Gypsy are the only ones of your kind, Cambot. And I know my world would be pretty sad without all of you in it.”

Cambot chirped and whirred.


End file.
